The creator of the global phenomenon “The Chosen,” Dallas Jenkins, has revealed a deeply personal and deliberate reason behind the portrayal of the disciple Matthew as being on the autism spectrum, a decision that has resonated with millions of viewers worldwide and sparked a profound conversation about neurodiversity, faith, and belonging. In a move that was anything but random, Jenkins, who has a daughter on the spectrum and extensive volunteer experience within the autistic community, recognized in the biblical Matthew a pattern of traits that felt unmistakably familiar, leading to a character study that is now being hailed as a landmark moment in religious media. The portrayal, brought to life by actor Paris Patel, has not only redefined a biblical figure for a modern audience but has also become a powerful symbol of inclusion for those who have long felt invisible or misunderstood within traditional religious spaces.
The decision to depict Matthew as autistic was born from a meticulous study of the Gospel that bears his name, according to Jenkins. In interviews, the director explained that he noticed Matthew is a “numbers guy” because he was a tax collector, a “facts guy” because the first chapter of his book is a genealogy meticulously divided into three sections of 14 names each, indicating a mind obsessed with precision and order. Jenkins connected these traits to the autistic community, stating, “I’m very familiar with the autistic community. It is in my family. I have done a lot of volunteer work there. So looking at that, I thought, ‘These are traits of Asperger’s or someone on the autism spectrum.’” This insight was not a casual speculation but a calculated observation that Jenkins felt would add a layer of profound humanity to a character often reduced to the simple label of “tax collector.”
The biblical Matthew, as Jenkins and his team interpreted, was a double outcast in first-century Capernaum, hated not only for his profession as a traitor working for Rome but also for his fundamental difference in processing the world. The series brilliantly captures this through Patel’s performance, showing a man who avoids eye contact, takes language literally, fixates on numbers and patterns, and struggles with social interactions. This portrayal suggests that Matthew’s isolation was not solely due to his job but also because he was perceived as strange, awkward, and uncomfortable to be around, making him a target of ridicule and rejection on multiple levels. The show’s creators understood that this double marginalization would be a powerful narrative engine, allowing them to explore themes of acceptance and redemption in a way that feels both ancient and urgently contemporary.
Paris Patel, the actor who plays Matthew, took on the responsibility of portraying a neurodivergent character with immense gravity, despite not being on the spectrum himself. Patel has spoken openly about the pressure he felt to get it right, saying, “When you get a role, first of all, that is a huge moment. Then all the nerves come in and you start thinking, ‘I need to do this right.’ As someone who is not on the spectrum, I just want to be an ambassador for the community, to show how much respect I have for the autistic community, and I want them to feel like I did them justice.” His primary source of insight was Jenkins himself, who shared his personal experiences with his daughter, allowing Patel to craft a performance that is both authentic and deeply respectful.
The impact of this portrayal has been immediate and profound, with viewers on the spectrum reaching out to the production team to express that, for the first time, they felt truly seen. One particularly moving story involves Kylie Jenner, a 22-year-old autistic cellist who wrote to Jenkins after watching the series, explaining how deeply she identified with Matthew. Jenkins was so moved that he invited her to Nashville to record a cello piece for an emotional scene between Jesus and Nicodemus, directly integrating an autistic artist’s contribution into the show. This act of inclusion is a testament to the show’s commitment to its message, demonstrating that the representation is not just on screen but extends into the very fabric of its production.
The psychology of Matthew as depicted in “The Chosen” is a masterclass in understanding the neurodivergent experience. The show meticulously illustrates how Matthew processes information, showing his brilliance with numbers and patterns while highlighting his profound difficulty with metaphors, sarcasm, and figurative language. In one early scene, Matthew takes someone’s words literally, and the other disciples laugh, leaving him confused and isolated. This moment captures the essence of a life lived one step out of sync with the rest of the world, where unspoken social rules are a code that feels impossible to crack, a reality that many neurodivergent people navigate daily.
Eye contact is another critical element of Matthew’s character, as he rarely holds a direct gaze, and when he does, it appears to require significant effort. For many on the spectrum, eye contact is not just uncomfortable but overwhelming, a conscious cognitive task that others perform automatically. In the honor-shame culture of the first century, Matthew’s inability to maintain eye contact would have been interpreted as dishonor, disrespect, or even guilt, further cementing his status as an outcast. The show brilliantly reframes this, suggesting that his behavior was not a sign of moral failing but a neurological difference that made social navigation a constant struggle.
Routines and rituals are central to Matthew’s sense of stability, and the show portrays his attachment to patterns not as stubbornness but as a necessary anchor in a chaotic world. When his routines are disrupted, he becomes visibly unsettled, a reaction that is common among those on the spectrum who rely on predictability to create a sense of safety. This portrayal challenges the common misconception that such behavior is difficult or defiant, instead offering a window into a mind that seeks order as a survival mechanism. The show’s sensitivity in this area has been widely praised by the autistic community.
Matthew’s obsession with details, often seen as strange or unnecessary by others, is revealed as an incredible gift. His attention to minute patterns and precise information is exactly what makes the Gospel of Matthew so structured and useful for understanding the teachings of Jesus. The show suggests that his neurodivergence was not a flaw God had to overcome but a trait intentionally used to preserve the words of Jesus with meticulous accuracy. This is a radical theological statement, asserting that a different brain wiring can be a divine tool rather than a defect.
The most devastatingly beautiful moment in Matthew’s arc is the moment Jesus calls him. In the biblical account, Jesus simply says, “Follow me,” and Matthew gets up. But “The Chosen” expands this into a powerful scene where Matthew is sitting alone, calculating numbers, and Jesus stops, looks at him, and says his name without contempt or mockery. For Matthew, who had spent years being insulted and spat upon, this is a moment of profound recognition. Jesus sees him exactly as he is, with all his unusual traits, and still wants him, not demanding that he change first. This unconditional acceptance is the core of the show’s message.
Crucially, Matthew does not become neurotypical after following Jesus. He remains awkward, literal, and struggles with eye contact. The show does not romanticize this, depicting the other disciples mocking him, getting frustrated, and failing to understand him, especially at the beginning. There is a powerful scene where Matthew is obsessively recording everything Jesus says, and the other disciples make fun of him. Matthew, with his characteristic literalness, explains that it is important to remember exactly what was said, not understanding why that is funny. This tension is a realistic portrayal of a community learning to accommodate difference.
Over time, the disciples begin to appreciate Matthew, recognizing that his different way of processing the world is a gift. When they need to remember exactly what Jesus taught, Matthew has the record. His neurodivergence, the very thing the world used as a reason to reject him, is redeemed by Jesus and turned into an essential part of preserving his message for future generations. This is the deep psychological lesson of Matthew’s story: belonging does not come from fundamentally changing who you are to fit in, but from finding people who love you as you are.
Matthew’s psychological journey is one of healing from chronic rejection. He had built emotional walls, choosing a profession that guaranteed social isolation because it was easier than facing constant misunderstanding. Many neurodivergent people make similar calculations, choosing careers and lifestyles that minimize social contact. But Jesus enters the equation and offers unconditional acceptance, beginning to heal decades of rejection trauma. The show depicts this process with remarkable sensitivity, showing Matthew slowly opening up, smiling occasionally, and even trying to joke, because he is finally in an environment where his way of being is not constantly punished.
The show also highlights the importance of intentional inclusion. Jesus is shown checking on Matthew, adjusting his teaching to use more concrete examples when he sees Matthew getting lost in metaphors. This is what real inclusion looks like: not expecting the neurodivergent person to do all the translating, but both sides building bridges. The neurotypical majority makes the effort to communicate in ways that include those whose minds work differently. This is a powerful model for churches and communities that have often unintentionally excluded neurodivergent people by assuming a neurotypical mind.
For 2,000 years, the church has often been a place where neurodivergent people do not feel fully welcome, not because of explicit rejection, but because the way church is done often assumes everyone can process intense sensory stimulation, follow unspoken social rules, and understand spiritual metaphors. “The Chosen” challenges this by placing an autistic Matthew among the 12 closest disciples of Jesus, showing him being loved, valued, and powerfully used by God exactly as he is. This sends a radical message: you have a place, not on the outside, but in the inner circle.
Paris Patel has said that playing Matthew gave him purpose, not only in representing the autistic community but also those who have felt unseen, undervalued, excluded, or misunderstood. Matthew’s story is for everyone who has ever felt invisible, who has built walls because it feels safer than risking more rejection, who has assumed they need to fundamentally change who they are to be accepted. The show says no, Jesus sees you exactly as you are, with all your unusual traits, and he says, “Follow me,” not after you fix yourself, but now, as you are.
The deep psychology behind this is that when you experience genuine acceptance, the trauma of chronic rejection starts to heal. The neural pathways built around beliefs like “I am not enough” begin to be rewritten. Matthew does not suddenly become fully confident; it is a gradual process, sometimes painful, with setbacks. But because he is in a consistently safe environment, his nervous system eventually begins to relax, allowing for real connection and belonging to begin. This is a powerful testament to the healing power of unconditional love.
Theologically, this reflects exactly how the gospel works. None of us come to Jesus already fixed. We all come broken, different, and inadequate. The message is not “fix yourself and then come,” but “come as you are, and I will transform you from the inside out, not to make you identical to everyone else, but to make you fully who you were designed to be.” Matthew did not become Peter or John; he remained Matthew, but he became the best version of himself, the healed version who could use his unique gifts without the crushing weight of constant rejection.
Imagine Matthew decades later, sitting down to write his gospel. The other disciples remember the stories and the emotional impact, but Matthew remembers the exact words, the precise structure, the order of events. His neurodivergence, the very thing that made him seem odd, is exactly what the church desperately needs. His meticulous notes pour out into 28 perfectly organized chapters. God did not have to fix his brain to use him; God used exactly how his brain worked. This is a profound message for every neurodivergent person who has felt like something is wrong with them.
The show’s impact extends beyond the screen, with autistic viewers writing to the production team to say they felt seen for the first time. Kylie Jenner, the autistic cellist, is just one example of how the show has created a ripple effect of inclusion. Her music is now part of the series, a direct contribution from an autistic artist who saw her own story in Matthew. This is a powerful example of how representation can lead to real-world opportunities and a sense of belonging.
Matthew’s story is not only for people on the autism spectrum. It is for everyone who has ever felt that the way they are is too strange, too different, too inadequate to be loved. It is for everyone who has built walls because it feels safer than risking more rejection. The show says that Jesus sees you exactly as you are, with all your unusual traits, and he wants you. You do not have to learn to be neurotypical in order to be used by God. You do not have to master every social rule that has always felt out of reach.
The portrayal of Matthew in “The Chosen” is a call for the church to reflect the heart of Jesus, embracing neurodiversity not as a charity project but as a genuine recognition that the body of Christ is incomplete without people whose minds work in ways the majority does not understand. Inclusion takes intentional effort. It requires the neurotypical majority to do some of the translating, to adjust the way they communicate, to explain metaphors, and to not assume everyone processes sensory input the same way. Jesus modeled this perfectly with Matthew.
If you are neurodivergent and have been standing on the edges of Christian community, waiting to feel normal enough to fully step in, the message of this show is to stop waiting. Step in now, exactly as you are, with all your beautiful uniqueness. There is a place prepared for you, not only in some theoretical church of the future, but now, today, in communities that are learning to love everyone Jesus loves. And if you are not neurodivergent, let Matthew’s story teach you that belonging does not come from conformity, but from acceptance.
Acceptance means “I love you with your differences included.” It means seeing value in your difference and recognizing that our community is better because you think in ways I do not. This is the lesson Matthew lived, and it is the lesson all of us desperately need to learn. In the end, all of us are Matthew in some way, with parts of ourselves we fear would lead to rejection if truly seen. And all of us need to hear what Jesus said to Matthew: “I see you completely, and I am calling you, not after you fix yourself, but now, as you are. Follow me.”
Source: YouTube